I’m fine…

Two simple words, but I’ve repeated it more times in my life than I care to admit. I know for a first blog post this one will be intense, but why not just get into it. Mental illness is something I’ve always been open with and with it, have come the comments of being attention seeking or a downer for speaking openly about it, and I know those comments will come here with this post. But mental illness has yet to be openly discussed and is still stigmatized, so if this helps someone feel less alone or reach out for help then it’s worth more than comments from ignorant individuals.

So…my name is Khatija, better known as Teej and I’ve had depression and anxiety since I was 13. My depression and anxiety came along with me having something call Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, or PCOS for short, but the full details of that is for another post. While they are both symptoms of another medical illness that I got when I hit puberty, various circumstances in my life have led to things progressing much worse than I would’ve liked.

As I said I’ve had this since I was 13, but what exactly was it like growing up from the beginning of my teen years suffering with this? One word, hell. At first, I thought that it was normal, people talk about turning a teenager as this huge change. Your body changing, hormones raging and various new feelings, some good and some bad. But when just getting up off the bed became an overwhelming task I knew something was wrong. I slowly began losing interests in things that made me happy. Anyone who knows me from young knows I used to constantly be singing and writing music, I was in guitar classes every Sunday and vocal training. Now I can’t remember the last time I tried to carry a tune. I would feel so hopeless and I developed extreme insomnia, If I even got two hours of sleep it was a miracle. I would also be so angry and frustrated all the time and would endlessly fight with my parents and my brothers.

One thing that I never told a lot of people, particularly my best friends from Secondary school, was that I was actually harassed by some students from school. My brother, who I also attended school with, was bullied, when I came into school, and they realized he had a younger sister, I became a new target after school. Keep in mind I was 12 when I started school and these teenagers were 3 years older than me. I never told my parents, teachers or my brother because they were already dealing with his situation that I never wanted to be a bother. Growing up was particularly difficult for me because of my looks, while all my friends and girls my age were starting to developed, I wasn’t, and I for sure wasn’t the prettiest in my group of gorgeous girls. I heard the comments and insults that were thrown my way, and while I blame no one because we were teenagers and immature, but words matter and you never know what someone is battling. My self-esteem took a hard hit in those days, and I’m not being dramatic when I say I hated my looks. I hated everything, from my voice to my face to my body, down to my hair, teeth and nails I hated. I would look in the mirror every morning and feel disgusted. That I was so skinny and ugly that no one would’ve like me, and while this seems small, as a teenager who has depression it was a huge trigger. Getting constantly told that I need to eat more when I actually used to binge eat so bad as to put on weight that I would get sick from all the food.

The self-hatred didn’t end there either. My brother was something of a genius in school, its why he was picked on actually, guaranteed he’s doing so well for himself these days. But it was hard to live up to. I had a teacher once tell me when I didn’t get a question correct, that my brother would have been smart enough to figure it out. I was 14 when I was told this, so I started comparing myself to my brother now. I started watching how proud my parents were of him and how I felt like I could’ve never measured up to him. I saw myself as stupid, and that I’ll never be smart enough. I hated even getting a B in exams. By this time, I completely hated myself.

This was just my depression though; my anxiety was another issue. It made my insomnia worse and always had me tense. I developed a rapid heart rate and would have this feeling of constant worry and fear, and I never knew why. My anxiety was so bad it used to trigger me to vomit every single time I left the house, and that’s no joke, my mom started keeping bags in our car for when it started. I would always be self-conscious and feel embarrassed and would think everyone in my life hated me or was embarrassed by me.

I never dealt with any of this well. *TRIGGER WARNING* unfortunately the self-hate and the feeling of not wanting to bother anyone left me to handle my depression and anxiety in a not so healthy way. I became a cutter. I would self-harm as a way to deal with the emotional pain that I felt. I never cut on my wrist because I never wanted anyone to see my scars. But self- harming quickly became my escape, one that I didn’t know I did at times. Anytime I did sleep I would have nightmares, all the time, and I would wake up with scars or cuts on my skin.

When I reached 15, things started feeling overwhelming for me, suddenly we had to choose subjects for form 4 and I was pressured by a lot of people on what to do with my future, when I didn’t know what I wanted. My thoughts by then were all over the place and I started feeling like I couldn’t do any of it. By this time, I would get into a fight with my parents or my brother every week, and I would just be angry all the time. I started feeling like everyone hated me and never wanted me around. I would just remember every time someone hurt me, insulted me, told me I was embarrassing or annoying. A quote from the Killing joke says “All it takes is one day…” and that’s what it took, me waking up one day and just not being able to do it anymore. At the age of 15 I tried to take my life. I would have thoughts of suicide and dying every day, and one day I woke up and it all hit me like a truck and I tried to end it. I was home alone a day and I started to cut open and stopped suddenly because a voice entered my head that told me to stop. Now I know everyone doesn’t believe in God or a higher power, so you could believe it was my better thoughts, but it was like a wave, everyone who might miss me entered my head, my parents, my brothers, my best friends, my puppy, all of it. I broke down in tears and eventually passed out. I woke up in the evening and realized that I needed to get help. So the next day I told my mom, as she was the one I was always fighting with, and she’s my mom after all.

My mom took me to a doctor at the age of 16, where I explained all my symptoms to them including the rest associated with PCOS. Which were totally ignored and I was told that what I was feeling was normal for a teenager and that I was being dramatic. For two years I went with being told this, that it was normal. Age 18 came and with the recommendation of a friend of my mom’s we went by one more doctor who finally ran tests and asked the right questions, and gave me a proper diagnosis. She put me on medication to help with everything.

Now medication is not a miracle worker, you need to also make various changes in your life, such eating healthily and regular physical activity. I needed to keep my body and mind healthy. Granted that various events had occurred in my life that made things a real struggle. Broken hearts, that have left me feeling life a single forever person and people I’ve lost to both life and death, that have left me scarred. Everyday is a struggle. Everyday I still battle with thoughts of death, and everyday I battle with my episodes of depression and anxiety. I still always feel that I’m a burden to my friends and family and would feel as though I’m not really wanted, and I haven’t learned to love myself yet. I would cry frequently and have outbursts over something that might be considered small. I’ll have mood swings that might lasts days and I might be emotional distant to protect myself or others. I’m really trying though, and I’m not going to stop till I’m better, some days I’m gonna relapse and it’s not going to be easy, but I’m working on passing this stage.

What to do if you know someone who has depression?

Check in and offer support. Listen if they want to talk, DON’T JUDGE! Be compassionate and understanding, know also that not every time they might want to talk, but simply being there is enough at times. Do something nice like a movie or making a cup of their favourite coffee or tea. Be there, show love and support it means so much. 

How to ‘ground’ someone during an anxiety attack.

During an anxiety attack a person’s perception can become warped so grounding helps them to calm down when they’ve gone too far into their head and thoughts. 

Have them breathe slowly through their nose and out through their mouth.. Then have them list out 5 things they can see, 4 things they can touch, 3 things they can hear, 2 things they can smell, and 1 emotion they can feel. This help bring awareness back to their surroundings.